


The Long and Winding Road

by EtherealEnigma



Series: Across the Universe [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Captain Marvel (Marvel Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Slice of Life, mostly canon compliant I think?, plural?, the works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtherealEnigma/pseuds/EtherealEnigma
Summary: No matter how crazy or unexpected things were, life had a funny way of always bringing them together and keeping them that way.———————————————————————————————————————A series of events between Yon-Rogg and Carol before the events of Torn.
Relationships: Carol Danvers & Maria Rambeau, Carol Danvers & Maria Rambeau & Monica Rambeau, Carol Danvers & Talos, Carol Danvers & Yon-Rogg, Carol Danvers/Yon-Rogg, Soren/Talos (Marvel), Talos & Talos's Daughter (Marvel)
Series: Across the Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682098
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	The Long and Winding Road

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, yes, this story and the series were both intentionally name after Beatles’ songs, fight me. 
> 
> Second of all, I would like to thank all the people who read the first story and dropped kudos, bookmarks, and comments of Torn, specifically GNorman_12 and PandoraCleo who inspired to me write this prequel. Much love! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol has gotten injured one too many times for Yon-Rogg’s taste and he can only keep himself quiet for so long.

“Ow, son of a bitch that stings!” Carol cries leaning away from the pad Yon-Rogg was patting on the burned spots on her back.

“Well it will hurt more if they get infected,” he huffs back, “now sit still. If we don’t work quickly then you’ll heal and we’ll have to go to a Xandarian doctor to remove the debris.” 

Carol grumbles but stops trying to wriggle away. He cleans the area for a few minutes longer before shifting in front of her. Eyeing a particularly deep blaster gash that is still bleeding and sits just above the neckline of her sports bra, he tsk’s knowing that he’ll have to stitch it back up. After cleaning it, he picks up the medical thread and a sterile needle, threading the eye hole carefully. He sprays an antiseptic onto the wound and after a few seconds makes the rust pierce into the sink, Carol wincing at the intense pressure. Yon-Rogg doesn’t mutter a word, continuing his straight-stitch sutures, an eerie tension in the room

“Just call me Raggedy Ann with all these patches,” Carol laughs lightly in an effort to lighten the dreary mood as he ties a secure knot to finish the stitch. 

Yon doesn’t get the reference entirely, but just enough to know he doesn’t like it. He wordlessly throws the needle into a nearby trash bin and begins to repack the medkit, not bothering to offer any acknowledgment to her jest. He moves towards the door to start dinner for them as he always did before Carol rushes to the door and slams he palm on it to keep him from leaving.

“Okay, what the hell?!” Carol snaps.

“Excuse me?” Yon counters back darkly, his cool, indifferent demeanor beginning to slip as he turns to face her.

“You didn’t talk to me on the way back from Vahal. You were all,” she flails her hands as if trying to grab the right word from the air, “ _ weird _ while you were dressing my wounds, and now you’re really just going to walk out of here without saying a word?”

“Carol, leave it alone,” he growls, turning to remove her hand but it’s as if her palm is a magnet, deadlocked to the metal door. 

“No, I will not leave it alone!” she challenges back, her eyes flaming with exigent conviction, “what did I do to make you act like such a - such a-“

“Such a what?” 

“Such an asshole!” 

Carol can practically see the steam radiating off his skin, practically feel it too. He’s more than angry, 

“You want to know?” He snarls back, crowding into her space so much that she can feel the heat of breath on her bruised skin.

Carol doesn’t falter, approaching him with the same flaming anger, “Yes, I want to know!”

“You’re careless,” he hisses.

“Oh god, here we go,” Carol throws her hands up in defeat. “Once the commander, always the commander,” she sneers.

“I’m not talking about your form or your hand to hand skills,” he hollowly laughs.

“Then what are you talking about?” She exclaims, completely exasperated.

“You throw yourself into every situation without thinking! Without thinking of yourself, without thinking about the consequences, without thinking about the outcome, just completely barallel your way in without a damn thought!”

“How in the absolute  _ fuck _ was I supposed to know they were going to storm us from the back?”

“It’s not just today! What about when you stormed the bunker on Berhert?”

“I had to - “

“Or when you stopped an entire fleet of Chitauri warships on Nix with no backup whatsoever?” He curtly interjects.

“There weren’t that many ships,” Carol defends.

“There were 40 at the absolute minimum!” 

“Well what do you want me to do? Sit by as hundreds of innocent people die when I have the power to change the outcome?” Carol spats, nearly chest to chest with him.

“I want you to act like you’re not fucking invincible!” He growls, his chest vibrating like a boiling pot suffocated by a lid, ready to boil over.

“Why the fuck does this bother you so god damn much?!”

Any semblance of restraint Yon-Rogg had doesn’t simply vanish at her careless response, it combusts, spontaneously incinerating into microscopic dark ash. He couldn’t even hold the words in if he wanted, his lips had already formed the shapes of what he needed to say, desperate to have her understand his plight. 

“Because I love you!” 

There’s hardly any break between the words leaving his mouth and Carol crashing her lips onto his. It’s a mesh of clacking teeth and inexperienced movements yet so them: as Carol pushed, Yon pulled; as Yon instigated, Carol reacted. Her brittle and battle-broken nails dig so hard into his bare shoulders that they bend and one of his hands loosely holds the base of her throat, coaxing her mouth to open to his dominating tongue while the other holds her hip almost bruisingly. When she nips at his bottom lip and draws blood, he flips them around and slams her back into the door. The metal meets her skin and she gasps into his mouth. Although the rough motion should sting the wounds on her back, the coolness soothes the agitated skin.He plants his palms against the door, framing her head, while her hands trail up his neck to intertwine and twist into the curly hairs at the nape of his neck. Their mouths clash again, a failing battle for dominance as neither can gain the upper hand. His hips grind against hers and he nestles his muscular, firm thigh between her legs, providing delicious friction on her center, She can’t help but release a muffled moan at the sensation, dipping her hips to follow the pleasure. She trails her hand down his tank-covered torso before slipping under the black cotton and tracing the grooves and divots of his strong chest.

They break away to take deep gulps of air, but the domineering dance never stops. Yon drops his head to her neck leaving hot, wet, rough kisses in his wake before stopping at the tender juncture where her neck meets her shoulder and bites down earning him a wanton cry and the sweet, metallic taste of her blood on his tongue. Under normal circumstances, Carol would be embarrassed to say she found release at that moment, but with his tongue massaging her sensitive flesh and her hips finding the perfect angle to work her bundle of nerves against the hard surface of his leg near his knee, it feels far too good for her to care. She slams her head back, her gaze turned up to a sky she can’t see, and she lets the pleasure wash over her, stemming at her core and blooming over the tips of her toes and fingers, even the roots of her hair. 

It takes him a few seconds to realize that she’s reached her peak, slumped and panting against him. For a split second, he feels immensely guilty, like he should have stopped this before it went this far. Carol seems to read his mind and comes out of her daze, her lips attacking his before he can muster up some sensibility and end their romp. 

She breaks away briefly to breath her demand on his lips, her eyes flickering over his face, “don’t you dare stop now.”

He needs no further instruction, skimming his skilled hands down her body to grab at her waist and draw her closer. Carol reconnects their mouths while pushing her body off the wall, moving them in the direction of her bunk. When they get close enough, she pushes Yon down onto the soft mattress with a slight bounce and the angry creaking of the box-spring coils. Their hazy eyes meet as their impatient hands undress each other just enough to get the job done, unwilling to wait even a millisecond longer. Carol pulls his sweats and briefs down to his lower things as Yon-Rogg drags her compression bra to crumple around her waist and slips her shorts and panties down in one fluid motion. They fall to her ankles and she kicks them off and somewhere into the room, probably the abyss that is the underneath of her bed. He settles himself on his back as she throws one leg next to his hip then the other. Planting her hands on his chest to steady herself, the hairs tickling her scratched palms, she adjusts her hips so her core hovers over him. Tantalizingly slow, she lowers her hips and sinks onto him her mouth open in a soundless moan as she savors the initial stretch. Her folds are sinfully wet and Yon groans as her burning slickness engulfs him. Once she’s fully seated, she tentatively starts to grind against him. It doesn’t take long for them to find their rhythm and it’s fast and carnal and primal, no words guiding them only the bare sensation of pleasure. He grabs the dips of hips, pressing his thumbs into the concaves bruisingly, and meets her thrusts with just as much power as she gives. It’s like immense ocean waves during a swirling storm, an aggressive push matched by an angry pull that suffocates all that it encounters.

Even as fire nips at his heels, he can’t help but be mesmerized by her on top of him. A deep violet blush colors her chest and a sheen of sweat covers her smooth pale skin, but it's her face that captivates his eyes. Her cheeks are flush, golden hair bouncing with each rise and fall of her hips, and her auburn eyes are half-open and nearly black with lust. Once he meets her gaze, he can’t break the contact. It’s like he’s crossed paths with a siren, powerless to disobey. He knows he can’t hold out much longer and knows she’s not far either if her clenching and her sharpening moans are anything to go by. One of his hands on her hips snakes up her torso to her chest where he splays her fingers on her breast and digs into her supple flesh. A shameless cry tumbles from her full lips and she covers his gripping fingers with her own; he can’t tell if it’s motivated by a need for greater intimacy or a shift in his ministrations to fulfill her wants. Whatever the case, their movements become sporadic and jerky and then all at once, they still, one last deafening crack of thunder leaving their lips and electricity jolts throughout their entire bodies. Carol’s back arches like a bow as her body feels the sudden snap of the string and Yon-Rogg’s hands find her waist and braces her against him as an animalistic growl with robust vibrato leaves his chest. When Carol’s jelly-arms finally crumble beneath her, she leans over and falls onto her back. For a few minutes, everything is still sans their chests heaving with their labored panting, the afterglow of ecstasy clouding their brains.

“I don’t know if this is the best time or worst time to say this,” Carol sighs satedly, turning her head to gaze at him softly and smile, “but I love you too.”

Swept up in the passion, Yon had forgotten what had sparked it, his own abrupt confession. He meets her eyes with a questioning glimmer and she shrugs a shoulder and cocks an eyebrow sheepishly before laughing as he surges to kiss her again.

“Say it again,” he mutters on her skin as he dusts kisses over her cheeks, nose, and eyelids. 

“You say it again and I’ll think about it,” she hums.

Bringing their clasped hands to his lips, he kisses each of her fingers, “I love you, Carol Danvers.”

“And I love you, Yon-Rogg,” she smiles before she feels the goose bumps pricking at her naked skin, “ _ but  _ I think I’d love you more if we could move this under the blankets, the heater’s still on the fritz.”

He chuckles as she slinks up the bed in long, fluid, cat-like motions before burrowing her way under the sheets, following her in tow.

“It will never cease to amaze me how you have the fire of a literal exploding star at your fingertips, yet you’re always desperately cold.”

Once he’s beside her, Carol slots herself beneath his arm while pouting, “just because I run hot doesn’t mean I am hot.”

“I’d beg to differ,” he grins. He had long-ago picked up Carol’s Terran humor, perhaps at first to assimilate her into Kree culture, but he didn’t really have that excuse now. He just liked to make her laugh. 

“That was a good one,” she nods tiredly, her head lolling on his bare sheet. 

He’s nearly asleep, drowsily running his nimble fingers through her short, messy blonde hair when he hears her quietly mumble a timid, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” he yawns looking down at her. 

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m reckless- “

“Carol, I -“

She hushes him quickly, “Shh, just let me finish. I’m reckless and I throw myself into danger because for so long, I haven’t  _ had _ anyone to have my back. I have Maria, but after  _ everything _ ,” she swallows the events of the past down thickly, “she can’t be behind me like she used to be, I wouldn’t let her,” she chuckles half-heartedly, Yon’s heart constricting at the thought. “I need to learn that I don’t have to do it all alone anymore, because I have  _ you _ .”

“You’ve always had me,” Yon says as he takes her friction burned cheek in his hand, and the feeling of holding the entire world washes him, or, at the very least, his entire world, “and you always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> For this specific chapter, I have to dedicate it to my muse, rogvers. Thank you for your lovely list of prompts, particularly the one that inspired this! (they argue, 'why did you do this?' 'BECAUSE I LOVE YOU')


End file.
